


'We' Is Good

by sallyamongpoison



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Christmas fic, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Nervousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Sole Survivor thinks of his family, his past, and a hopeful future centered around the Christmas holidays in the Commonwealth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'We' Is Good

All done up like it was, Starlight actually looked like it could have been a Winter Wonderland. Granted, Massachusetts winters were nothing to get overly excited about considering they had maybe another week before the blizzards started rolling in and things got even more difficult (what was the deal with radiation and snow? If it was anything like the rain it was going to be pretty terrible). That, however, didn’t seem to put too much a damper on anyone’s mood. In fact, it seemed to improve it.

They’d been at the Drive In for just about a year. Holden had come to at the end of October, and they’d left Sanctuary in search of something that  _ wasn’t _ a constant reminder of Angie and Shaun. Sleeping in his old house, in his old  _ bed, _ just seemed wrong. That group that had come with Preston had been reluctant to leave, however, so he’d left Sturges with the instruction to get in touch if they needed anything before they’d gone. Somehow, the asphalt of the old Starlight felt more like home than coming back to the ruined subdivision he’d been paying a mortgage on...well, two hundred years ago. 

The place was  _ lively _ . Everyone milled around and talked and helped each other. Their houses weren’t any better than shacks, but they’d been planned well and in some cases were almost more comfortable than the house he’d left. They had lights and clean water, and even places to relax. It was home. It felt good. 

“Pass me those pliers,” a deep voice off to Holden’s left prompted.

He’d been fussing with some armor, light yet strong, and when he turned he was greeted by a stoic looking face and dark puppy-dog eyes that were so incredible serious. Danse. Paladin Danse. The man had been coming back with him to Starlight for months now, had made a home there too, and there was a little part of Holden that was just a little more glad for it than he probably should have been.

By all accounts he’d been a married man with a son. Everyone knew that was his mission. Holden never corrected them. He spoke of Angie, of Shaun, and of his life and the others all nodded and made the right faces. They sympathized. Some empathized. Maccready and Deacon...well, they understood more than most. They’d share drinks, laugh, and give each other that look that meant they’d all lost someone close to them. Holden missed Angie. He missed her sense of humor and the way she’d parrot back whatever they were watching on television whenever it was especially stupid. She was smart as whip, talented and driven, and he’d held on for dear life.

A family built in, they were. A wife and son on the way, it was everything he’d needed after retiring from the military. No one questioned that. No one questioned why he was marrying a girl he’d known for years but had never dated. They just assumed. 

He’d loved Angie, Holden always had, but never in the way people expected. She was beautiful with her olive skin and dark hair. She would have been anyone’s dream...had she not already been pregnant. It looked bad. They both knew it. So they’d tied the knot in a courthouse ceremony and settled in their little subdivision with neighbors of the same age. It was, after all, the American dream. She could hide, hide that Shaun wasn’t his, and he could hide.

Holden could hide that he wasn’t exactly interested in women. Angie understood, she’d always understood, and they willingly made the choice. Now she was gone, Shaun had been taken, and he had to find her son for  _ her _ . Of course he loved the baby, he’d been there when he was born and held him in his arms. Shaun was  _ his _ too, of course, but...he had to find him for Angie. He owed her that much. 

Once he’d shaken himself from his thoughts, Holden passed back a pair of pliers to the waiting hand. “Yeah, sorry…” he apologized, “feeling a little, uh, out of it today.”

“Are you ill?”

Leave it to Danse. 

“No, just...just thinking.”

“Christmas is usually a family time,” Danse observed as he fiddled a bit with the arm to his power armor. The man was only ever out of it to sleep and to fix it, and Holden rather enjoyed those times when he was. Danse was a powerful looking guy, even out of the tin can (as they’d affectionately deemed it), and him standing there in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt made Holden’s insides melt just a little. “Are you thinking of family?”

A soft laugh and Holden nodded, “I...yeah, I am.”

“Having something to push you forward is a good thing,” he offered, and set down the pliers so he dark eyes were studying how Holden was grinding down some of the armor pieces. 

He sighed, “Angie really liked Christmas,” and licked his lips, “she used to write me when I was deployed and tell me about what everyone was doing.”

They were quiet for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts as little projects. More often than not, if one of them was working the other one was as well. It was a comfortable silence, one born of respect and amicable friendship. Danse was a good man, one Holden enjoyed getting to know, and the closer they got the more Holden had to take a step back and remind himself that advances might not be terribly welcome. Holden knew the military, knew it well enough to understand the Brotherhood of Steel despite being frozen for so long, and knew anything like that was hidden very well or stamped out.

“Come have a beer with me,” Danse prompted as he set down the power armour piece, “come on, you’ve been working on that for hours.”

“Coming from  _ you? _ ”

Danse laughed. Actually laughed. Then he cuffed a hand on Holden’s shoulder. “A beer,” he agreed, “you can come back and finish.  _ We _ can.”

We. We was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr! @sallyamongpoison


End file.
